Titans of the Caribbean Revised
by Toriano.Flacko
Summary: Pirates, metahumans, ships; the whole nine yards. No listed pairings, but be ready for anything.
1. And Down Goes Me Ship

cRaZyMaN676 Reportin' 4 duty!

Just completely disregard the first attempt we made at this...

Just so you know, not everything is going to be like the movie, and not everything is going to be like the Teen Titans. Trust me, we have no idea what we're doing here.

Disclaimer: Honestly, now, I'm only saying it this once: I only own how I use these people and anyone you don't recognize or have never heard of.

Chapter 1:And Down goes me Ship

The young captain cursed his luck. He seemed to be doing that a lot for the last, er, how many days? Lately, things weren't going so well for the strange metahuman. The same could be said for just about _any_ day in the pirate's life, but all things considered, today topped the list... for now.

No, it wasn't _enough_ that his current crew consisted of just himself, the most previous of which having left him stranded on a desert island. The _same_ desert island. Twice. But, really, if they were going to be stupid enough to do the same thing the near exact same way, the least they could do was give him another way to kill himself, right?

Of course not. They had no originality.

It also wasn't_ enough_ that his current 'ship' was not even sea-worthy, having sprung yet another leak on it's course to blasted dry land, the latter of which he could almost curse with no worries. Couldn't have the only land mass within miles turn out to be a mirage, could we?

Of course not. Rotten fish didn't smell this bad if there wasn't a port nearby.

It just _couldn't_ be enough that he'd seen the inside of the jail of his current choice of port enough to last him a lifetime, or that he'd dearly hoped never to go anywhere _near _this place for the remainder of his life. Never mind the stench, how long it took to explain exactly _how_ he kept getting out was simply criminal! But noooo. Would they care to remember and get a better lock for their cells? Would they care even that much to detain a upstanding pirate such as himself? Did these questions even matter anymore, seeing as they'll all have the same answer?

Of course not. That would just be stupid.

But _never_ in all of his days had this happened. Well, maybe once or twice, but even those times he hadn't been about to have such a bad day as this one. The fact that he had already gone for days without any other kind of sustenance was _really_ grinding his last nerve. Still, was even that enough?

No. Of course not. Duh.

He just _had _to be running low on the stupid drink, too!

"Aw, crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap_crap."_

He peered at the dregs at the bottom of the bottle even as water sloshed around his bare feet.

"That's _definitely_ not gonna last me the rest of the day..."

Seeming to finally take notice that his ship -- little more than a fishing boat, really-- was yet _again_ taking on water, the green teen frowned as he stood, automatically unbalancing the boat.

"Bottoms up," He sighed as he finished off what was left of the brownish liquid until something caught his eye. The current was, at the moment, carrying the pirate under what seemed to be a bridge, from which the skeletons of former pirates hung.

Bowing low, he placed one foot on the creaking seat and took off his hat in respect, revealing a blood-stained bandana underneath. As he came up, he also took notice of the sign that also hung there. Fear did not strike into the heart of the young, green-tan pirate for this was almost becoming a ritual for him as he quoted the message of the sign.

" '_Dead men tell no tales'_, eh dudes? How's it hangin' ?"

\/\/\/

Swearing profusely under his breath, the teen weaved his way through the rapidly shifting crowd, almost scowling as his stomach growled at him. Having very recently disembarked his, well, sunken _ship_ and swum the rest of the way to the thing that was known as land, of course there had been one of those _annoying_ record-keeper-type guys badgering him about tying his boat up at the docks. What was the guy,_ blind_? couldn't he see that he _had _no boat to tie up at the docks? Couldn't he see that he was soaking wet, and obviously had to get onto the planks by _other _means?

Apparently not. Which cost him, oh, wait, nothing, seeing as that was all he had on him at the time. So far, though, he seemed to have lost the persistent guy in the crowded square. Points for backed-up social traffic, folks!

"You ran out of tofu days ago and just finished the your last bottle of the best drink to hit the seas... Add that to your _lovely_ death-trap, which, by the way, sunk before it even reached decent footing, and the fact that your mutinous crew kicked you off on a deserted island a few weeks ago seems... Well, it still is pretty damn bad. Was I truly meant to suffer like this, or...?" Stopping coincidentally in one of the few vacant spots in the square, still dripping wet, he raised his hands and looked to the sky, as if expecting an answer.

Not that he _did _expect an answer, mind you; whether it be because he'd learned by now that his life was just like that or because stranger things had been known to happen before that ever would. Regardless, he got one, whether he wanted to or not.

"Hello, Logan. Long time no see." If he had known the definition of the phrase "heart attack", he would have had one if he hadn't expected _something_ like this to happen. Instead, he shut his eyes and let his arms fall at his side in defeat. Still, even now he had something to say.

"Satan, _why _must you _torment _me? Is it because of what I said to your pet fish? I didn't mean it, honest!" The girl behind him smirked coyly, eyebrow cocked.

"Not exactly who you were expecting, obviously. It's not nice to tempt the heathen gods, you know..." He rolled his eyes as he began moving again. Dying of hunger or otherwise (his current condition, perhaps), he'd recognize that slow, deliberate voice anywhere.

"With the luck I've got, the heathen gods can go screw themselves for all I care. What do you want... or _need_ from me this time, mystic?" He knew her good and she knew that. Probably why the smirk dropped so fast that he could hear it. But... no, it couldn't be... was she trying the Face?!

"Is that all I am to you now? Mystic?" No. Logan had long ago learned his lesson when dealing with women. By now, at least. The games they played always hid subtle death threats between the lines, but her's were a little more... Literal. Her attempt at the Face was doing nothing to hide the malicious intent, no doubt sparked by his immediate... what was it called... evasion of her... uhh... attempt at discretion.

... Right? Or was it tedious small-talk, he could never remember...

"I can't call you by the name I want to but you won't tell me your real name," He paused, not-so-neatly side-stepping a wayward fruit wagon. "Your birds, whatever his/her/it's/their names be," he stopped again to glance at the black crow perched on his friend's shoulder. "Don't seem to particularly like the nickname I used to have for you, and the local people where you live don't seem to know you exist, so no name option there. That, plus I don't think you'd appreciate the names the guys in my crew had for you. So, 'mystic' it is. Savvy?"

They had moved over closer to the buildings on the other side of the square by then. Taking a deep breath before yawning, he thought he smelled onion soup brewing just around the corner... If he acted fast, maybe he could swipe a bowl before the napping chef noticed, but of course, the many ringed hand the caught his shoulder stopped him for the time being.

"Oh, what now?" He forced as much annoyance into his voice as possible - not a hard thing to do by now - as he pined over a lost opportunity.

"You _owe _me, remember?" Head still turned to the side, his eyes widened imperceptibly. _Ah... right._

"I owe you... for what, exactly?" He carefully studied the overhead sign of the pub they'd obviously stopped next to as his arm stretched around the corner. If he could just reach...

"Logan, I want my payment." _Rule number 1 when dealing with mystics; whatever you do, feign ignorance._

"Payment for what?" _Gotcha!... Hey, is that a spider or smoke stain?_ He squinted hard at the sign. _... Nah..._

"You _know _what. All those fortunes, predictions, protection spells? Or had you forgotten just who you have been running from for the past few years?" He looked down now, discreetly passing something behind his back from one hand to the next before going back for another.

"Right, right, _those..._ just so you know, I resent that... Kind of." _Careful, careful..._ "And of course, you'll be needing your _weird_ kind of payment thing, aren't you?" He wasn't kidding; when he said weird, he meant it. She didn't ask for money or, well, stuff like that for her services; her price always seemed to be something that wasn't expected, and coincidentally, never seen again afterward. Or so he thought.

"Exactly." _Bulls-eye._ "But from the way you're acting, I take it that you don't _have_ any kind of payment, especially not my kind?" _Swing and a miss._

"... What's your point?" _Timing is everything, execution style is adaptable._ Behind his back, Logan carefully hid his movements behind his attitude and his words.

"Of course. Now, one of two things is liable to happen." _Of course, a choice._ "Option one, I follow you around for the next couple of weeks or so until you get my payment ready for me--" Here he jumped in.

"Alright then! Although I don't mean anything by it, let's go with that idea! From the way you're talking, you've already got your things packed, so..." A crooked grin now came across his face. Maybe he wouldn't need that back-up plan after all...

"... But since it is likely that I will kill you before you obtain sufficient credit, I could just take your soul instead." He looked up, wide-eyed. From the way she was smiling, he could only foolishly hope that she was joking. Then he remembered who he was dealing with.

_Creepy hermit of a mystic equals definite cynicism. Mystic plus smile equals probable danger and confusion. Mystic plus twisted sense of humor? Slim chances on that. Even then, mystic plus joke involving death? Does not not compute._

Although all his sense told him to run like the hounds of Hades were after him, he didn't. It may have been stupidity. It may have been a sense of inevitability. It may have just been a stroke of genius, but that's doubtful. He didn't drop the grin.

"Now who's tempting the heathen gods? You know there's hundreds of beings out there that are out for my soul; what makes you think you'll be the one to get it?" Had to admire him, at least a little; most would have been running and screaming by now.

"I'm the one that will have caught you first, aren't I?" The grin widened and she frowned. What was he thinking?

"Funny thing about that... you've got to catch me first, right?" Before she could answer, nay, in the blink of an eye, a blur of movement, a flash of black, and suddenly the mystic and several of the surrounding bystanders were blinded and choking on a cloud of coal-dust.

Logan grinned and rubbed his dirtied hands together as he rounded another corner, a footnote popping into his head.

"Coal. Dirty, underhanded, and cheap, but when used right, totally effective." Well, he would have to shorten that a little, but that could be done later. Right now he needed to evade his current pursuer and her bird, the latter of which he had just named unknowingly and was following him through the alleys of Steele.

/\/\/\

Richard Greyson, one of the only two blacksmiths in Steele, entered the forge that day in a hurry. Ripping off the monkey suit he was in absently, he wished for the ability to curse his luck. It was bad enough that he'd been daydreaming on his way to the Anders' Mansion, now he was late for work as well! Taking a bit of his own advice for days like these, he took a deep, calming breath and realized that he had been trying to cut his way out of the suit with one of his more recently-made knives.

That wouldn't have ended well.

What was he so worked up about, anyway? It wasn't like he was actually _required _to do his job these days, least of all on a schedule. He thought back to earlier on that day as he changed into his work clothes in a more _calm _manner.

_"Mister Greyson?" He looked up in surprise, half annoyed and half embarrassed. Having been a little more focused on his thoughts, he hadn't even _heard _the waiter approaching him until now, and from the slight look of disdain on the waiter's face, he'd been calling him for a few minutes now._

_"Yes?" Where was Kori? Didn't she say she lived here? Wait, she wasn't why he was there, the sword he was supposed to deliver was. On that thought, where was the governor? Didn't he say to be there by this time at least?_

_"Governor Galfore is a little busy at the moment, and says that, if you wish, you could leave the weapon here for him to pick up later?" _

_"No, I'm supposed to deliver this in person." That, and I want to see Kori. "Wouldn't want this to get misplaced, would I? I can wait."_

And wait he had. For the next hour and a half, most of which was spent causing numerous small cases of accidental property damage, despite the 'watchful' eye of the doorman. Even then, though, it seemed that he had just missed the object of his attention on his way there and had spent a good, what, two hours doing pretty much nothing.

Ah, right, _that _was why he had been so worked up. That, and because it had supposedly been _required _for Kori to attend the promotion of... what was his name, Gary? Gar... Garth? It started with a 'g', he knew that much. And from the gossip of the town, which he couldn't have avoided if he tried, a lot better looking that _some _of the other guys in the Royal Navy.

Either way, whatever the reason, he still got a bad feeling about where the day was headed...

Richard shrugged, pondering on these thoughts as he began the day's work. If it didn't directly involve him (or Kori, for that matter), he was good.

But of course, that wasn't how it was to be.

/\/\/\

In Steele, more commonly known as Steel City, one of the most commonly known and enforced rumors used to be that metahumans were the scourge of the world and sea. Any human that sided with a metahuman in any case or conflict was considered a despicable degenerate, branded a criminal, hunted and imprisoned by the law. However, things had changed since twenty years ago, during the Metahuman Wars, and these days metahumans walked the streets un-persecuted, considered innocent until proven guilty.

One of the biggest changes was that these days, metahumans were apparently just as human as any other, for some were in positions of power in this city, at least. Governor Galfore and a close acquaintance of his, Garth Ladd, were living proof of this fact.

So when a teenage-looking green man ducked into the first open door he saw, one would have to understand that he couldn't have known that he _definitely_ shouldn't have done it. It had been a desperate act on his part, to escape the one of the only beings he'd actually run like hell to get away from, so once this was understood, everything should have become clear.

"Oh... Crap."

However, he was not in the mood to explain anything to his pursuer, so just had to grin and bear the glares he received from the building's current inhabitants as he passed through. Who happened to be changing clothes. And happened to be female.

"Owowowoowoowow! Excuse me-- Ow! If you'll just-- ow! Dangit, stop hittin' me!" He mentally sighed, not stopping his progress through the small crowd as he shape-shifted into a bull. He pawed the ground and snorted, but even that didn't stop the enraged shrieking women from trying to beat him to death. Still he was capable of hearing the racing footsteps approaching the door. Any other time he would've been glad to be a fly on the wall in this place.

Not now, though.

_"Oh, well, I tried to warn them..." _He did not know this, but years upon years later, he would've aptly coined the phrase, 'Raging bull in a china shop.' Although this was far from a china shop, this is actually what the idea had been based off of. Besides, the public would've made no sense of the saying had it been 'Determined animorph in a women's dressing room.'

/\/\/\

"Stop doing that already."

Kori glanced over at her sister, next to her, who gave no sign whatsoever of having just, er, whispered to her. Shrugging slightly, she continued her efforts to loosen the tight-fitting bodice she wore.

"I'm just as uncomfortable as you are, so deal with it." She glanced back to her sister, who still wore that same fixed smile plastered onto her face, seeming to pay attention to the ceremony going on before them. Kori finally gave up and sighed, slightly; she had been making no progress whatsoever, anyway. Nodding imperceptibly, she also fixed a somewhat strained smile onto her face and settled for fanning herself for more breathing access.

"Sister, could you please oblige me with _when _this cursed process will end?" She wasn't sure, but hoped she had copied what Komi had been doing for the last half-hour. In other words, whispering so only she could hear even in the crowded gathering of citizens, an art known to the more subtle of people as 'hissing'. Why it was referred to as that when it didn't involve snakes, Kori didn't know, but she did know that it was a little hard to do.

"How should I know?" Annoyance filtered it's way into the statement, making it almost poisonous to normal ears. But Kori's ears were, of course, not exactly normal.

"Excuse me, but was it not _you _who wished so dearly to attend, sister?" This was true; while Kori would have much more content doing, well, _anything else_, Komi had been most insistent on attending the promotion of her most current boyfriend, who had recently broken the record on the number of days spent still-together with Komi than any other had.

A silent glare sent her way quieted her for the time being, and, not having enough breath to spare for a sigh, Kori instead opted to think about what other things she could have been doing with her day. Talking to Richard, perhaps, if he wasn't too busy in the forge? But he was always busy at work, wasn't he? Ah, but there was always a chance... maybe later that week they could... What, go out to dinner? Friends did that kind of thing, right? Go for a walk? Maybe, but since when had they ever walked anywhere together? There was always time for new things, wasn't there? Perhaps the could partake of the sparring, or sword-fighting Richard was always so focused on? Kori had always been interested in those things, but... He never had the time...

In such a quieted state as Kori was in, was it any wonder that she happened to hear a small commotion outside? It sounded pretty far outside of the castle walls, where the promotion ceremony was taking place, but...

Glancing first to the left, then the right, Kori incited an art that she had perfected long ago for long, boring occasions such as these; disappearing into the shadows inexplicably. Quickly donning more inconspicuous clothes than the tight bodice and frilly dress that had been here costume previously, she got rid of the evidence in one of the most obvious ways she knew how, and slipped into the streets without a hitch to her objective.

_Frankly, I don't care if I never see that death-trap again. Let them assume, that will throw them off._ She hid a smile as she nonchalantly sprinted down the street, _towards_ the commotion that had caught her attention. Just like a few other citizens that had noticed it. _Oh, I'm going to fit in just fine for now..._

\/\/\/

Former captain Logan peeked out cautiously from behind a conveniently placed statue as a green lizard. By then a now-rabid, half-dressed crowd of women had flocked by, followed closely by that blasted crow, and right behind _that_ an unbelievably fast crowd of on-lookers. A person would be surprised at how many could be attracted to such a display of, well, craziness. Fortunately, Logan was not one of those people, and hopefully, the mystic had been among the crowd that had just dashed by.

Making sure that every last part of the procession had passed by, he smiled to himself as he shifted back to his human form, promptly falling off the statue's porcelain hat. The he took notice of what, or should it be said, _who_'s statue he'd been hiding on.

"Dude... I totally look _nothing like that!_" Of course, what but a black shadow would choose this time to slither up the street behind him? And of course, out of the black shadow emerged the aforementioned mystic.

"Looks like the game is over before it even begun, hmm?"

This time, Logan _did _scream as he ran away. Although chances are, he didn't expect for it to be the last time he would do either action for a while, so he did not really appreciate the luxury of doing so.

"Pirate in distress! Cutthroat, scum-of-the-earth metahuman pirate in distress!"

Or, you know, maybe he did.

/\/\/\

cRaZyMaN676 Out!!


	2. A Favor

cRaZyMaN676 Reportin' 4 duty!

Just so you know, not everything is going to be like the movie, and not everything is going to be like the Teen Titans. Trust me, we have no idea what we're doing here.

Disclaimer: Honestly, now, I'm only saying it this once: I only own how I use these people and anyone you don't recognize or have never heard of.

Chapter 2: A Favor

"You _do _know that I was just kidding, right?" She watched, both bemused and annoyed, as he spun away from studying the padlock and froze, eyes wide and mouth open.

"How did-- never mind. I should have remembered that walls and locked doors have no affect on you. Kidding, you say?" Frankly, she was surprised by the simple fact that she could even _still _be surprised by Logan and his actions. Not only had he gotten himself arrested by the navy to avoid her, he had basically just admitted that maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.

That, _plus _the fact that he had been screaming his head off for help just a few hours previous. _And _because he'd only been scared speechless by her sudden appearance for maybe a few seconds before continuing his inspection of the lock. Shaking off the surprise, the mystic answered.

"Yes. _Kidding._ You know that annoying thing you do every time you come by? Yeah, that. I decided to take your advice for once and what happened? You took me too seriously." Her unintentional hiss was lost on him, so she continued what was becoming her first rant in ages. "You see, _this _is why I don't _do_ things like that, people always--"

"It was a good joke." She went silent and raised an eyebrow, her own version of bewildered unbelief, at his questionable admittance. "It had all the elements of a prank; surprising, unexpected, and totally believable. Did you enjoy it?" He turned to her, honest curiosity on his face. Weighing her options, she decided to answer truthfully.

"Up until the part where you got the law enforcement involved, yes. I did." Logan frowned for a moment, muttering something about that "usually being the funnest part." Then he smiled as he turned back to the door, extracting something from one of his many hidden pockets as he did so.

"Well, as long as someone had fun, I'm good. So, if you don't need payment, why are you here? Just to say hello and brush up on your jokes?" The mystic sensed no bitterness or cynicism behind the statement, but for some reason felt that there _should _have been.

She glanced self-conciously at the huddled inmates in the next cell over.

"Well, I actually _do _need my payment... but not as badly as I led you to believe. I kind of need a favor..." Yes, there it was, as she knew it would happen; he froze, his head millimeters at a time until he could look at her sideways.

"... What kind of a favor?"

/\/\/\

It was a few minutes before Komi noticed that her sister was no longer beside her. And for legal purposes, this was not because she was so obsessed with her boyfriend's smoldering black eyes from this far away. For a few seconds she had actually come to believe that Kori had decided not to be annoying today.

Then, after a few moments of "wait a minute, something's wrong with that sentence," Komi had realized that she had put the words "Kori", "not," and "annoying" in the same sentence together. In that order.

Now, it could be said by anybody outside of the Anders's family that the two sisters, Kori and Komi, suffered from a common condition know as "sibling rivalry", even though they looked almost nothing alike. Inside the house, or personally from Galfore's point of view, it was more of a one-sided "sibling war."

You see, while Komi constantly made a point of trying to bring her little sister down(intentionally), Kori was just barely naive enough to not notice that. Instead, she seemed to make a game of occasionally mimicking Komi's actions and, well, generally annoying her, albeit unintentionally. So the older sister's plan kind of backfired at that point.

Also, although some outsiders who could have just met the two and had no respect for their authority(or whatever it was called) would automatically assume that the two simply hated each other, this would not be true either. Not even in Komi's case. Wow, this is slightly confusing. Anyway...

No, Komi did not "freak out" over the seemingly sudden disappearance of her sister. Although she was probably freaking out in her mind, she did not do so openly. Instead, she unknowingly copied her sister's move in slipping out of the not-even-halfway-over procession into less-tight-fitting-clothes and out into the streets of Steele, muttering under her breath about "annoying red-headed demons."

Allegedly.

/\/\/\

The mystic sighed in relief; at least he hadn't immediately said "no", as she had expected him to do.

"I... kind of need help finding someone. Tracking them, really." Predicting his obvious confusion -she had never needed help with this kind of thing before- she elaborated. "I know where they are, generally. Somewhere around this area. I just can't exactly... _find _them, is all." Was she blushing? Yes, most likely. Why? Well, how would you feel if you were basically made a fool of at your own area of expertise?

Exactly.

"Okay, first things first. Just how many people are you looking for?" Already back at his self-assigned task, he was probably only partially paying attention. Most likely the answer didn't matter. He'd probably already made his decision.

"Six, including you. Three(you included) are in this town, and the fourth and fifth are supposedly arriving here tonight. I believe that you know where the sixth is." Who was she kidding? She _knew _that he knew where the sixth was. She just didn't know where that would be.

"Do the others owe you, too?"

"No. Not exactly." Without turning around, he raised an eyebrow, his own version of "yeah, right". If the mystic had to come looking for them, most likely they owed her something.

"Any of them got prices on their heads that I should know about?"

"I don't think so, no." Now he was suspicious, and she could feel it. One last question.

"Besides me, do you even _know_ who they _are_?"

"_No._" An imperceptible growl rumbled from her throat, giving him all the answer he needed. Great. Just great.

"Alright then, fine. I'll help you." Apparently she hadn't expected this answer.

"_What?!_ I mean," She took a moment to regain her mysterious composure. "... What? Why would you?" Within the period of less than a few minutes, once again he'd surprised her. Luckily, he was almost done with whatever it was he was doing, ergo became more concentrated on it, ergo didn't let her see the wide smile that broke out on his face.

"Well... Chances are that doing this favor could wipe out my debt to you, so that's one good point. Even if it doesn't, well..." Even more of a surprise, the cell door suddenly swung open, accredited to the dagger that Logan then slipped back into his pocket. "A man's got his reasons, doesn't he?"

Besides the not-so-probable animosity behind the statement itself, the crooked grin pretty much killed any ill intent imaginable. In a mock-gentlemanly fashion, he gestured at the door.

"Milady?" Smirking at his predictable actions, the mystic didn't see the gleam in his eyes as she passed through the gate. "Let's be going out of this hell-hole, shall we?"

/\/\/\

"I should have know that this wasn't my day..." Now, Richard wasn't one to mope, most definitely _not_ due to his current company, but, well, let's say that the situation seemed to call for a small bit of self-pity, shall we? Or maybe self-pity isn't the right word for it...

"What was that?!" One would be surprised that her voice was even distinguishable over the roar of the flames, but he wasn't one of those people.

"Nothing, Kori!"

"What?!"

"NOTHING!!"

"Oh! Okay!"

Yeaaaahh... Well... Y'see... One might also be wondering what, exactly, Richard and Kori are doing and why it seems to involves flames.

A-hem.

The day seemed to really be looking more mediocre than usual for the young blacksmith only a few hours previous.

_What to do, what to do... No, really, what the hell is there to do?!_

_Richard looked around, somewhat bewildered at the lack of need for anything around the forge. _

_Weapon inventory? Swords, broadswords, short swords, knives, daggers, machetes, hand axes, battle axes, lances, javelins, bayonet spears, pitchforks, etc.? Check, full in every category since last week. Or was it the week before last... Armor inventory? Check, also full since... last month. Er, cutlery inventory? What the hell? Who needs silverware from a freaking forge?! Uhm, glass? No, still don't have the necessary resources for that. Hmm... Experimental weaponry? What part of every category don't you understand?! Guns? Not enough training, and even then not enough available resources. Training, sparring, dueling? Well, unless straw, non-living dummies count, nope. You see, it's because of a little thing called "lack of a training partner"!!_

_Lack of anything to do, indeed, was going to drive him crazy. Of course, with so little going on, it would have been a surprise if he _hadn't _noticed the over-loud procession heading down the street just outside. Barely opening the door, he peeked out at the crowd heading down the street(you could never be too careful on the streets of Steele). What was going on, a freaking mob-strike?! All that was missing was a target of such a display, torches, and over-done signs and pitchforks._

Somehow or another, in the confusing wave of people, Kori had seen him and immediately found her way into the forge. Somehow. What followed was what could have been a nightmare for Richard if he had been a different kind of blacksmith.

It turned out that some of the equipment in the inventory had been not as durable as he had thought. Either that, or Kori was just strangely able to break any kind of metal she didn't make or handle herself, something that the blacksmith was rapidly becoming convinced of. However, instead of breaking down into tears or flying into a rage like any other blacksmith probably would have done at the utter _destruction_ of weeks and/or months of hard work, for whatever reason he _enjoyed _it.

The fact that the weapons and armor that were destroyed were only in that condition(destroyed) due to his training with Kori(who was pretty good with a sword, mind you) probably had something to do with that. It is reasonable enough to assume that both enjoyed the workout, although that phrase in itself implies something different.

Then, of course, Kori had discovered how to work the bellows. You know, the big, tank-looking thing that seems to constantly have a fire going in it that turns stuff into molten lead and later on into weapons and such?

Yeah. _Those _bellows.

At about this time, Richard was kind of sulking near the sword-rack as Kori had the time of her life making weird weapons and the like. Better than Richard himself could. Which was why he was smiling.

_Wait, what?_

But hey, as long as he could be around her, he was fine.

_Oh, now that makes sense._

/\/\/\

"You know, I just now noticed something..." The mystic sighed. Although she wasn't yet tired of his company, so to speak, Logan's lack of ability to just be silent was starting to get to her. Even with her back turned to him, she could feel his eyes boring in her general direction.

"Ooh, big words. Can it wait?" Really, though; they weren't even out of the navy headquarters yet, and already the young green man had asked enough questions to be capable of impersonating the next Spanish Inquisitor! And with his criminal record, he was liable to do just that once he got his bearings! But apparently, it couldn't wait.

"Where's your bird?" This time she did turn around, eyebrow raised. _That's_ what he had noticed? It wasn't exactly unprecedented, but really.

"My bird is where he needs to be and he isn't where he isn't." She knew that the answer would both confuse and satisfy the young captain, so she started up the next set of stairs toward waning daylight, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her, changing her direction with one simple movement.

"Don't wanna go that way, guards up that way." Her eyes widened imperceptibly for a moment before realization set in. "These pointy ears aren't just for show, you know."

And so they continued walking their way through the military base. After a little while, though, Logan's pace unexpectedly quickened and forced her to speed up as well to keep up. He was almost running when she finally got back her lead on him. Then--

"Who's the fourth one that you're looking for?" They question caught her off-guard, of course, having been more focused on running, and she tripped before he grabbed her and swung her onto his back as a horse. That would speed things up. "_Who is he?_" He still wanted his question answered, though. Apparently it was mandatory. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to keep from falling.

"You _know _who he is." That was all she was going to say now, because it was all that she _needed_ to say; and frankly, she didn't know if this certain green horse had fleas or not and wasn't going to chance them getting anywhere near her mouth. "Where are we going?!" She noticed that the walls were blurring into one simple mess of brown, orange and red, but for all she knew they were heading straight down into the heart of the place.

He didn't answer. The whistle of a cannonball flying straight from the twilight in the window, however, did.

/\/\/\

cRaZyMaN676 Out!!


End file.
